The Story of Gericault
by Addlebrain
Summary: A squirrel and his brother resolve to help end a disease that's causing vermin to raid where they never would have. Rated T for mild to moderate violence.
1. Let's do this

The Story of Gericault.

Chapter 1: Let's do this.

An old squirrel was sitting on the gatehouse steps at Redwall Abbey, Sitting back after his lunch. A group of dibbuns wandered up to him, curious, as always. A brave hare leveret, more curious than the rest, ventured a question:

"Who're you, sah?"

"I'm a friend of the Abbott." The squirrel answered promptly.

"That doesn't really answer my question, sah."

"You may call me Jerry. Tell me, are you looking for some trouble to get into?"

"No, sah, were upstanding` dibbuns, wot."

"Would you like a story?"

"Sounds boring. No offence sah. Just the ones we hear are boring, about good manners and the like."

"My stories are a wee bit better, young one."

The hare and the rest of the dibbuns looked apprehensive.

"What, you have something else to do today? Then go; don't listen to an old fool on these steps. No, not leaving? That is precisely what I thought."

"Gerron wif it." A mousebabe complained, shuffling his feet.

"Patience will serve you well in your life. You listen to the stories the Recorder tells you?"

"Everyone does, sir." Answered a polite otter.

"You all want to grow up to be like Martin?"

"Aye, sir."

"Well, quite a few of the fights Martin got in were won with the aid of patience."

"Sir?"

"Take him and Tsarmina for example. He could have rushed the fight, done it right when he and Gonff escaped. He may have won, with the element of surprise, but the odds were stacked against him, with only a slim dagger blade. No, he waited `till he learned more, fought more, and thought more. The experience, and his readiness, ensured the battle would go in his favor."

"I think I might understand, Sir."

"Well, I don't." chimed the impudent mouse.

"The irony is mouse, that to learn patience, you must BE patient."

"But that's borin`"

"Fine! Then I'll entertain you."

"Jerry" took a large swig of cordial and launched into his story.

_***_Quite a few seasons prior_***_

Gericault woke, being prodded by another squirrel.

"Gericault, wake up. It's a big day for you. Wait, never mind, just chores, hahahahaha."

"Thomas, I think I hate you."

"`Prolly."

Thomas, Gericault's older brother, pranced from his room with a silly smile on his face. It was HIS big day. Gericault was a fairly young squirrel, only ten seasons old; his brother was thirteen seasons old. His little brother had to stay home and look after the place while their parents took Thomas to his ceremony. Gericault didn't even know what it was about; just that he had to "mind the fort" as his father put it.

The "fort" was a cozy, buried house, the entrance was a tunnel burrowed under a fallen tree. A tree, that even when it was dead, required a little maintenance to keep the insects and termites from destroying it. This was easily done. Gericault tied a dock leaf over his mouth and nose, reached beneath the cupboard and retrieved a vial. It contained a substance that kept the termites and insects away. Also, it was a powerful hallucinogen. The slightest whiff could leave one huddled in a corner, seeing terrible things in a waking nightmare.

Gericault's father was an accomplished herbalist, and from the power of some of his concoctions, Gericault was really glad his dad knew what he was doing. Gericault took a twig with a bit of cloth around the end, dipped it in the vial, brought it out, then swiftly finished protecting the entrance, brushing the thick liquid it all over the log. Thank goodness it only had to be done once week. As he went in to put up the solution, he overheard a whispered order.

"Over here, cullies, I saw a squirrel."Gericault stopped everything, standing stock-still.

_Vermin_

"`Es gorra be `round here somewheres…"

Gericault listened intently, reaching for a kitchen knife.

"`Ey, I smell summat…"

He crouched, hidden inside the cusp of the fallen tree.

"It's the old tree, it's covered in some kinda sap."

"Damnit, quit dithering and find the squirrel!"Gericault sat still, kitchen knife forgotten as he covered his mouth with his paws to keep from laughing as he listened to the events unfold. He heard one of them sniffing at the log.

"Phaw, that is an awful pong!"

"You're an awful pong, now sharrap and keep looking."

"There's something over there!"

"What was it!""I think it was the squirrel.""Let's go get him!"

Gericault scrunched up as they leaped right over the log, over him, nobody looking back. If they did, Gericault would be seen. The one who had sniffed the tree, then pointed where he _thought_ he had seen a squirrel, dazed now, stumbled over the log and fell. Nobody noticed, the rest of them too intent on finding their squirrel. Gericault leapt on him, giving him a sharp rap on the head with the handle of the kitchen knife. The stoat was out of it now, drooling as he was dragged into the house and bound and gagged. Gericault then washed his hands, put away the knife, and then, bounding to the top of a nearby tall pine, barked out a warning to all goodbeasts in the area to watch out for vermin.

Shortly, Thomas and their parents ran into the home. They found Gericault washing dishes, elbow deep in soapy water, while the vermin prisoner, bound and gagged, stared unblinkingly at his bonds as if they were snakes, which, to him, they might appear to be.

"Jerry! What have you done?" His father, the fastest to comprehend, questioned him.

"Sorry dad, thought you might want him." Gericault replied after drying his hands and replacing the last plate.

"What would I want with a crazy stoat?" His dad questioned, arms spread wide patronizingly.

"He's not crazy, just out of sorts. He sniffed our tree while your concoction was still fresh. None of his friends noticed his absence." Said Gericault, trying to explain before he was overwhelmed with questions by his brother and mother, who were about to ask questions of their own.

"Son, this is a vermin, one of the group that nearly ambushed and killed everyone at Thomas's ceremony, at first opportunity, he'll-"

"What ceremony was it anyways?" Gericault interrupted.

"You don't know?" His brother said, incredulously.

"None of you tell me anything. After dad caught me eavesdropping, I couldn't get any information."

"What about your friends." His mother asked, eyebrow raised.

"Have you seen my friends, ma? The nonexistent ones? You know there's nobody my age.""I thought they were just shy, or something…" His mom trailed off.

"Little Brother, they were congratulating me on blocking up part of the stream. Remember when everyone was getting sick? It was because the river went past this stagnant swamp. I took it into my own hands to dam the stream off from the swamp, which was causing the sickness."

"Really, Thomas? You're a hero!" Gericault was looking at his brother with respect and admiration.

"Well, seeing what you did just now, you're giving me a run for my money." His big brother complemented. Their parents were getting impatient, knowing they wouldn't get any information until Gericault knew what he needed to.

"I just dragged him in here and tied him up, dad's stuff did most of the work."

"Jerry, I'm not talking about him, though it was well done. You saved half the town's lives. You shouted the alarm just as they were gonna ambush us. Nobody was hurt."

"It's just what dad told me to do."

"Thanks son, but when I told you to sound the alarm for vermin, I don't remember saying "Also capture a stoat and tie him up in the kitchen if you get a chance." His father said, half admonishment, half sarcasm.

"Once again sorry, I thought he could help you with your work. Like a tester or something."

"Jerry, when you grow up, you will realize how wrong doing that would be. He is still another living creature. What if I gave him something that would dissolve his liver from the inside?" His father asked, turning his philosophical. Until, of course, ma interrupted.

"From the smell of his breath, that's already what he's been getting at. Some kind of grog."

"Quiet, he's coming around."

The stoat had chewed through the gag (a spare dishcloth), finally and his eyes were devoid of the haze and stupor that they were.

"You squirrels see the size of that snake. Nearly ate me."

Jerry's dad stepped in, reining in the whole situation. He might be an herbalist, but if you thought about it, you really, really shouldn't mess with an herbalist. An angry herbalist is a skilled poisoner; Gericault's dad was fond of saying.

"What's your name, Vermin?"

"None of your business."

"You sure? I can get the truth, if I'm so inclined…"

Gericault's dad opened a cupboard in full view and began going through vials, loudly listing well-known poisons that'd send a badger to his grave. The stoat gulped visibly.

"Okay, okay, it's Bane. Don't poison me."

"I'm sore tempted, stoat, after what your friends tried to do.""What'd they do?"

"They _tried _to ambush us. Would've killed half the village had my son not shouted the alarm."

"They wouldn't kill anyone. They're just hungry."

"Aye, they have a real thirst for killing."

"We couldn't get food once our swamp dried up and everything dried out." Bane explained.

"So they raid a peaceful village?"

"You would do the same, if you were in our place."

"Nay, I'd have managed without killing and robbing. You could have just resettled."

"My clan have lived there for many seasons. It's not possible. All we had to do was raid your village and bring the spoils back. Maybe could have got hostages to use for a steady food source." The stoat was surprisingly talkative after the scare Gericault's dad had given him.

"Tell me, what should I do with you."

"Lemme go?"

A small smile appeared around his eyes. "No, you tried to kill my entire family. My son when you were snooping around here, and your friends tried to kill the rest of us."

A small, sigh of despair from Bane was heard.

Thomas spoke, enlightening Bane a little.

"I apologize for your clan's hardship. I dammed the stream from your swamp because it was making our beasts sick."

Bane was looking intently at Thomas, who became a little apprehensive, though Bane was still tied securely, sitting on the floor.

"Tell me, when did your squirrels begin getting sick."

"A half season ago."

"What happened to `em?"

"At first they were throwing up, then they would go pale for a few days, while throwing up occasionally, then it would wear off."

"Kiddo, you have no idea how smart you were. You damming up the stream didn't cause our swamp to dry up. Don't blame yourself. It did save you squirrels though. Since we were further upstream, we got hit harder. They'd throw up and go pale, but usually on the fourth day, they'd die. We burnt our own clanmates for fear it was contagious. I burnt my best friend, for nothing, instead of givin` `im a proper burial. Turns out our swamp dried up because the ashes from the burned bodies killed the plants."

"Do you know where the sickness is coming from, Bane?" Gericault's dad asked, Bane's vermin status temporarily forgotten in this new development.

"No, sir, we don't, `gates, we were still getting sick until we figured out it was the water, just a week ago. My guess is though is it's washing downstream. We're getting our water from a shallow well we dug."

"Hmm. If we, say, helped you find and get rid of the sickness, would you leave our village alone?"

"Squirrel, if you got rid of the sickness, my entire clan would owe you a life-debt. We've lost so many, we'll do anything to prevent more deaths."

Gericault's entire family looked once at each other and then at Bane.

"Let's fix this."


	2. Preparations

Chapter 2: Preparations.

A/N: I'm sorry for the terrible formatting, but apparently it doesn't turn out the same when it's on here. Sorry. It looks better in MS Word. Anyways, I'm hoping to make this story pretty big. I hope I can do it soon, anyways. Also, this chapter is not quite a filler, but it does show a bit of everyone's character.|

_*Late Morning, One day after.*_

_Thomas and I would be going with Bane and another vermin, paw-picked by Bane, who seemed to be a fairly capable leader. Good, too, since Thomas would have lead, if our village had anything to say about it. It took some persuading to let Bane lead, even though Bane was a better leader, with more knowledge of where we would be going. I had no problem with a vermin leading. If we got there in one piece, he was okay with me. Our village had little to no bad experiences with vermin, being well hidden and out of the way. That was likely the only reason we were helping in the first place._

Bane shouldered easily past the small crowd that had gathered to listen to the tribe leader explain our mission. This would take a while, for our tribe leader was fond of speeches, (or to make something completely clear to some of the slower ones) known to stand on the tree stump in between a triumvirate of three huge trees. He meant well though. Once Bane had reached me, he leaned in close and posed a question with his normal, playful accent:

"You, wos` yer name again?"

"Gericault, sir, but just call me Jerry."

"Why're you comin` along Jerry, yer` barely an adult yet?"

"I don't know either. Maybe because I managed to capture you."

"Only with yer dad's foul crud." Bane retorted.

"It worked, and that's what counts."

"Yer a cool `un, alright." Bane ruffled my headfur, coarse pawpad effortlessly crushing my headfur to my skull.

"Be careful around my friend we're bringin` along. He's a good fighter, but a wee bit temperamental. At least, he was when I knew him…"

"What do you mean by that?" I questioned.

Bane sighed and explained:

"I haven't seen him in seasons; don't know what he'll be like. When I did run with him, he was the best one in a fight, but the first to find a way to avoid it. He left the clan on a mission. We'll need a level head like that, with the cunning of a scholar, but the brutality of a vermin."

"Sounds like you're expecting a bad scrap."

"I'm not gonna sugar coat this, lad. We're goin` to have our fair share of fights and scrapes. Travelin` is about getting through `em in one piece. Got that, kiddo?"

"I understand, sir."

It was a lot to take in, but I got the general picture. His friend sounded pretty lethal.

"Good, see you when Mister bossy-britches is done with his power-play."

"Bye."

_*Later, Noon.*_

_Bane's friend, Rince, a smallish stoat, was just about what I had imagined him to look like. Tattoos spiraled around his form, cruel, tribal lines to denote his triumphs and kills. Tattoos were applied by making deep cuts into the beast, then filling the cuts with colored dyes. Gericault's dad was skilled at making the dyes, but lacked the artistry that tattooists had. Plus, Gericault's dad thought the whole thing was a cruel process. _

_A cruel process, which, on Rince, fitted him well. Rince also wore the same tribal garb as Bane, a bark-cloth kilt, with patches of animal fur adorning it, with a cross-sash stuffed with daggers and other… things. All in all, Rince was a fine figure of a killer, with cunning eyes._

_What surprised Gericault, and Bane, was Rince's voice. It was coarse and cruel, grating like a knife on a rock. Rince always talked in a low growl when he could, and when he shouted, all around him winced._

_Rince was alright to be around, in Gericault's opinion. Most others, except Thomas and Bane, avoided him like a curse. Bane and Rince shook paws, looking straight in each other's eyes, examining closely._

A short bark, like a laugh, emanated from Rince's mouth.

"Bane, when did you grow up. Last I saw, you didn't look like a born killer. It was embarrassing to be around you, all soft and weak. Now look, a fine figure of a vermin."

"Aye Rince, I have changed, though I can't remember the soft and weak, but what happened to your voice?"

"Yeah, I would have been a fine singer had I not been an exceptional coward."

"What do you mean, Rince?"

I was wondering the same thing, for if Rince was something, it sure wasn't a coward.

"I was with a group trying to end our problem. Our group was too large. We were spotted instantly from everywhere. Long Patrol Hares took a small chunk out of our numbers, but once the predators out there saw we were vulnerable, they struck. Groups of reptiles swarmed us each day, and crows savaged us at night. Soon we were a small group of veterans, moving as fast as we could…"

Rince then took a deep breath, and continued. "Then we ran into a large, deadly problem. A badger, huge, wearing chunks of branches tied with vines as a kind of armor. It ripped everyone apart in a flash."

He took another deep breath, eyes full of regret.

"Everyone but me. I ran the other direction, as fast as I could. I got pretty far until I was clotheslined by a hanging vine. I couldn't breathe, and then I passed out. I woke up three days later and made my way back, my very voice a mark of my cowardice."

Bane put a paw on Rince's shoulder. Bane's voice was devoid of it's normal, joking, accent.

"You're not a coward, friend, you're a survivor. Our clan knows of survivors, and cowards. You aren't the latter Rince."

"Bane, old buddy, the definition of a coward is someone who runs away while `is friends are getting butchered, at least it was when I last checked. My only chance is to redeem myself. If I have to drag you and these woodlander whelps, then so be it."

"Speaking of woodlander whelps, Rince, this one is Gericault, and his brother is off getting the supplies ready over there."

Bane pointed to a camouflaged tent that was the main store of supplies for the village. It was slightly worse for wear after the failed raid, but no harm done. It was bad-looking anyways; a few cuts and chips out wouldn't make it much worse.

Rince looked at us both as if we were stupid.

"You left this whelp's-"

"Gericault." Bane interrupted.

"Call me Jerry, if it pleases you sir." I helped, or tried to.

"Jerry the Whelp's older brother. Does he even know what he's doing?"

"Yeah, he knows his way around."

"So you say. I'll go see to it that he does it right. Better to be over equipped and run into trouble, than not be equipped and run into it."

"Doesn't it go "Better to be over equipped and not run into trouble?"

"Whelp, were going to run into trouble, make no mistake, lest you feel like dying. Even then, don't do it in case it drags the rest of us down."

With those words of comfort, Rince walked effortlessly through the crowd. Nobody made the mistake of getting in his way. Must be one of those fatal mistakes Rince had just warned me about. Likely the risk was up there with swimming with pike and chugging nightshade.

Bane was sitting on a nearby tree root, pondering. He did that quite a bit, I'd noticed.

"An acorn for your thoughts, Bane."

"I was just thinking on our chances of making it through all the stuff that will impede us."

"It sounds pretty pessimistic to me."

"Pessimistic?"

"It means you view the world in a negative way. Like you would say" The canteen is half empty" where a beast who isn't would say "The canteen is half full."

"I'm not that bad. I'm just being practical. For instance I'd say "A half-filled canteen makes a lot of noise."

"What are the chances of us making it through without a scratch? What if the Long Patrol killed all the reptiles and crows, then moved off, and the badger is sleeping when we pass by?"

"That would be hilarious."

"Why."

"Because anything else this mission throws at us is going to be a piece of cake."

_*Later, after much of the village leader's jaw flapping. Yakkity Yak*_

Turns out Thomas had forgotten a few small, but useful things, which got him on Rince's bad side. Thomas was trying to get on his good side, a small target for anybeast. Thomas was getting angry at missing that small target.

"Screw this, think of me what you want to, I don't give two acorns and a dockleaf about your opinion. See how far your petty dislike gets you."

Turns out it was a lucky shot in the dark. Rince, like Bane, had a high opinion of practicality. Rince turned and apologized.

"Sorry, kiddo, but we don't have time for your mistakes or my petty dislikes. Fresh start?"

"Sure."

They shook paws, slightly squeezing each other's paws till the tendons in their necks stood out. Then it was done and forgotten.

We left the village, burdened by our bulging haversacks and minds contemplating. Bane and Rince thinking about the inevitable problems, Thomas thinking about how we would stop the sickness when we got there. I, however was thinking about the glory and pride I would gain from my village and parents, the whole venture looking brighter by the moment. Maybe I would get a sword like Rince, a bow like Bane's, or a dagger like Thomas. For now, my sharpened stick and some herbs and salves Dad taught me to make. I had a small edge on Thomas and Rince, since Bane and I used one of dad's vials to smear on a paralytic, something to freeze the enemy. Bane had dipped each of his arrows into the solution, while I coated the end of my javelin liberally. The paralytic was fast acting, and safe to eat, in case we needed to hunt. All in all, the whole thing looked pretty good.


	3. Dwarfed by Rince

Chapter 3: Dwarfed by Rince.

The first day, we made good progress, morale was high and we had a good rest. That was not to last. Well, that's what the bandit's thought. Lemme explain.

We were moving south-west, I had just figured out (Nobody tells me crap.) We had decided to use a dried out creek bed at a path and guide. Rince had taken point, paw hovering over his sword at every odd sound. Thomas went behind him, then me, then Bane as rearguard with his bow and arrows. After our nerves had calmed after an odd bout of noise a ways from our location, we walked calmly in a triangle formation, with me in the middle naturally.

We got closer to the noise, and found a tiny, dried out tributary that led to a stone door. Well, a stone used as a door. Rince motioned us over to him and we slid into a ditch, hidden from view.

"Look, we found a bandit hideout. We got lucky, the watch is asleep. We can move on, or we can get rid of them. If we move on without getting rid of `em, they may have alarms on the path ahead. Then we'd be sitting ducks for an ambush. If we get rid of them, we'll be doing a favor to future travellers and our mission will be that much easier. Also, I have a plan for any survivors we leave."

I spoke first:

"I vote we get them out of our way. If they ambush us, we might not stand a chance. If we attack them, we have surprise on our side."

Rince agreed with me. So did Bane. Thomas then voiced his concern.

"Were going to run up and attack without a plan?"

Rince shook his head.

"I've always got a plan…"

**_*After Bane and Rince took out the Perimeter Guards, while Thomas hid the bodies, and I kept an eye out for trouble.*_**

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen a single dead body, or had an encounter with Death. With the crowd I was with (Rince and Bane) it wouldn't be long.

Nothing went amiss. Rince had something planned for me, which he told me to do without telling me the rest of his plan or where he or Bane or Thomas would be. Whatever, need-to-know-basis and all that.

I would stand in full view with a full haversack, asking for help, then when the bandits sent somebeast to investigate, we'd take him out. Simple enough, I guess.

"Hey! I'm lost and need some directions, is anyone around?"

A thin weasel, grinning widely, pushed the stone away from the entrance. There was also a thick wood door beyond the stone that would take some effort to pass.

"Well, you found trouble. What's in the pack?"

"Nothing."

"Looks full for nothing. Let me take a look."

As soon as Bane got a clear shot, he gave me my signal. I turned around and covered my eyes. The weasel was confused at this, for all of about a second.

"The heck-urrk."

Bane's arrow to the throat killed him, leaving my imagination with a terrible gurgle to work into my nightmares.

Thomas removed the body somewhere. I opened my eyes to see Rince walk calmly up to the hideout. He knocked on the door. I was in awe.

"Do you even have a plan?"

Rince turned to look at me with an odd look on his face, his trademark killing visage, hooded eyes and a large canine tooth poking out of one side of his mouth.

Bane put a strong hand on my shoulder and explained.

"If you want to see death, then look at what he's going to do. The time for stealth has passed. Watch a killer in action."

I did. I didn't want to see death, but once Rince got moving, and his tattoos were covered in blood, he was a sight to behold.

A voice came from the other side of the door:

"Password?"

Just before bloodlust took Rince into its red embrace, a bit of cockiness shone through.

"Oh darn, I forgot the password… wait, I remember: Die Scum!"

No more sanity. Rince's sword chopped the lock off, then chopped the doorbeast's head off. Bright red arterial blood got all over Rince, plus some grey matter. Ick. Not that he cared, by the time I had registered where the head had rolled, there were other…appendages… being removed. Paws, arms, legs, it made no difference. Rince was a meat grinder. Arterial blood was everywhere, on the table where the bandits had just before been loudly gambling at. Blood-covered dice rolled as the table was used as a makeshift barricade against Rince. A few hefty chops=no more table. The beasts that held the table died. Rince stood in the middle of the hideout, looking his normal smallish figure, but covered in blood and gore. Rince then seemed to swell as a victory declaration shook his frame.

"Death To Everything That Stands Before Me, The Whirlwind of DEATH! AAAAAARRRRRG!"

Thomas, Bane, and I stood in awe. Thomas sighed.

"I suppose I'll have to move these bodies too."

Rince shook his head, lit a torch, then threw it into the hideout.

"Oh, well that's convenient.'

Bane urged us on, still in awe of Rince's display.

"Come on, we don't want to be here when the grog stores go off…"

"Grog stores?" I asked.

The rest laughed and Bane said:

"You'll see."

I did, I saw it from a league away. A bright orange fireball, with tinges of blue from the alcohol, brightened the evening sky.

"Got late while I was killing everything, didn't it?"

"It wasn't while you were in full swing. It only took you a minute. How many were there, it's hard to get a count with the parts everywhere." Bane half joked.

"I counted thirteen tails before Rince blew the darn place to smithereens."

"Get used to it. Rince is partial to explosions…"

_/Stay Tuned for the future chapters! I got the ball rolling on this one, yeah!/_


	4. At Our Leisure

**Chapter 4: At our leisure.**

_*About one day after the explosion*_

_After the "small incident" at the hideout, we were in the clear for a while. It gave me a lot of time to contemplate what I had just seen. I hadn't killed anybeast yet, but if you had just seen Rince destroy thirteen, it was a baptism of fire. My approach to killing would never be the same. I think I might have been able to kill, but maybe never at Rince's level or capacity. _

_Rince, later, was lagging behind from some small wounds. Some broken knuckles, a sprained ankle, and a nasty gash on his head. This is where I could prove myself to be more than just a burden. I bandaged his head, wrapped up his knuckles and wrapped up his ankle with some sticks for a little support (it was no use telling him to take it easy)._

_Normally, I wouldn't be this careful, but since I'd be travelling with him, it would help everyone if he was in top form. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Not that Rince would ever be called weak._

__*A few leagues away, shortly after explosion*__

_Nathan and his otters were lost, in a strange land, working as free-roving warriors, killing vermin scum. They were good otters, but they were finally making their way back home, and have mercy on anything that stood in the way. Nathan proved a capable leader, and used all at his disposal to make everyone else happy, managing to keep everyone upbeat after a loss. Nathan wore burden like it was tailored to him._

An exhausted otter ran up to Nathan, making his report:

"Sir, scouts have spotted a large explosion, about two leagues from here."

"Explosion?"

"Yessir, Swill says it's from vermin grog. He says it's the only stuff that could make it blue around the edges."

"Is Swill sure?"

"He's positive. He does have quite a bit of experience with vermin."

"And explosions, let's not forget that one time in the caves."

"With the gas pocket? When we couldn't find any vermin in there, so, without warning, he throws the torch into the gas pocket."

"Yes, that time."

"Yeah, that was loads of fun-I mean; it was a bad move on his part."

"Regardless of fun, let's go look over there for vermin, then move along the creek bed until we get out of this place."

"I'll send Swill to you. You can hear firsthand what he's got to say."

"Good move."

_*Enter Swill, a few minutes later*_

_Swill was a bit taller than most otters,__with an shell eye patch over his right eye. Swill was in his late stages of adulthood, with seasons of experience to know more than most others around him._

"What do you need?"

"I'd like to know more about that fireball we saw before we all go look around there."

"Like I told the other otters, it was good old fashioned nettle grog. They added too much water to it, or else there would have been more blue in the fire."

"…Yes. May I ask how you know this?"

"A short stint disguised as a vermin. I helped them brew the very stuff. I haven't forgotten how, if you want to try some."

"No, I've heard stories about that crap. Why were you in disguise?"

"I ran away from home as a young lad. Turns out I bit off more than I could chew. I just couldn't fend for myself, so I disguised myself as a vermin with some old tricks a traveler taught me. I worked in the vermin village for a while, until I had learned enough to live off the land."

"You're crazy, you know that?"

"Not saying it was easy or without close calls, but I got out fine, just minus an eye."

"When you were a kit?"

"Yeah, it looked ridiculous, a young kit wandering around with an eye patch. When I came back home though, Ma said it suited me."

"Still does, Swill. Go on about your business. We'll move soon, and quickly. Would you take point? The runners are either out or resting, since nobody anticipated the explosion."

"On it."

_*Back to Gericault and Co.*_

"Look, how're you supposed to know how to fight if the village elders forbid it?" Rince was in a political debate with Thomas, while Bane and I snickered in the background.

"The whole thing about a peaceful village is you don't have to."

"Sounds soft. How're you supposed to stay in shape if you don't have to fight for your lives?"

"Most have jobs and chores to keep themselves busy."

"Stupidest way I've heard to run a village…"

"Really, how does yours work?"

"We fend for ourselves, and what we have left, we give to the village to help keep the place afloat."

"Sounds fine, except for the squalor and fighting. Probably alcohol, too."

"Alcohol is fine, right up until it makes you do stupid things. That's when they get thrown out of the village until they're sober. Besides, only the ones better off fight. That way, when they lose, they have something to give, and someone to bandage them up. The ones that don't have anything try and keep everyone happy. Works good. Bit cruel, but good."

"Whatever."

"Better than a village of sissies."

"You may have a point, but peace is preferable to hardship, whatever the citizens."

_Bane and I had got along pretty well; Rince and Thomas made a good team too. We might make it out. Then again, just we four seemed to have little chance against the reptiles and crows, never mind the crazy badger._

_*Later, nearly dusk.*_

_Bane had told us to unpack right in the creek bed, under an overhanging, dead, willow tree for cover. We weren't in a hurry, so we could sleep until dawn. My village wasn't getting sick, and Bane's village was getting its water from a well, along with some help from us, in light of our little alliance._

Bane approached me as I was hollowing out a hole in the creek bank for me to sleep in. Bane was going to sleep under the stars, his haversack a makeshift pillow. Rince and Thomas were going to rig up their hammocks.

"How're you adjusting to camping out?"

"Fine, it's peacfull, so it makes up for it being uncomfortable."

"Good. Just checking."

"What about you, need a blanket?"

"Nah, I packed one, but I'm not going to use it unless I have to. I like the cold."

"Bane, why did you agree to form the alliance?"

"Not because it was easy, I can tell you. Quite a few objected, said it'd make us weak, allying with a peaceful village. I did it because I felt both of us could gain something. We could stop dying, and you could count on us in case trouble stikes."

"Good call."

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't have made it."

"What was your rank anyways?"

"I was a captain, and so was Rince. Both of us made great leaders, but Rince was always going out and expanding, where I kept what he got secure. When he stumbled on your village, I persuaded him to leave it be. Then Rince left and we stopped expanding for a bit, but we still had a lot of territory to use, so we did well."

"Thanks for not letting Rince destroy the village."

"Wasn't worth it anyways."

"Right, Up until you needed our help."

"Point taken."

"`Night Bane."

"Likewise."

Bane was acting like another older brother, albeit a dark, dangerous vermin brother. It was pretty cool. Rince was neat, too, but a little too crazy. Plus he still hadn't got a chance to wash off the blood. Ick.

_**/Hope you all like it so far. Drop a review, if you're feeling chipper. Please feel chipper./**_


	5. Getting Along

_**Chapter 5: Getting Along.**_

Swill was trailing along behind almost all the other otters when they moved out to the explosion, more like a crater by now. Swill thought long and hard along the way. He knew it'd keep him focused, but still ready for the future. An active mind is better than a careless one, in just about any situation.

Swill admired Nathan, regarding him as an unofficial Skipper. Swill believed Nathan had enough leadership and good sense than most other cavorting, carefree otters. Nathan knew what it cost to maintain peace and innocence, and a good soul to always pay up.

Swill didn't think he himself could completely take on the problems of others. Heck, he couldn't remember the last time he helped. Swill thought himself useless, unknowing of his own value and worth.

_*Later, the otters coming upon the crater*_

Swill was partial to the odd explosion, but this one made his look like a lit fart, to speak bluntly.

Swill poked around, looking for signs of a scuffle or an accident. It wasn't a scuffle; it was a straight up fight. Some of the appendages that weren't thrown farther than an arrow out of a bow were sliced cleanly. That meant they were attacked, lost, then their bodies were disposed of... without ceremony.

Swill was in awe of this destruction. Nothing he had seen, or even heard about, was this flat out crazy. A warrior of extreme skill or bloodwrath had killed at least eight (Swill had a hard time counting the little pieces.) The other otters hadn't moved from the spots they were in when they laid eyes on the crater. Swill couldn't blame them. Nathan, however, was looking at Swill expectantly.

"Swill, I'm going to need to know what happened here."

"Well, sir, here's how it went down…

A warrior comes in, kills at least eight vermin, and then gets rid of the evidence by throwing a lit torch into the underground hideout. Mostly shored up with wood, it catches fire quickly, a gambling table providing more fuel. The first grog barrel, separate from the others, was the first to go off. It caved in the roof, and with the sudden rush of air, the fire grew and blew the entire stock, which was what we saw."

"It's surprising how you came to know this, but it all adds up. I want you to scout ahead with five others to find the culprit. A warrior capable of this destruction shouldn't roam free. We should at least make sure he isn't going to harm innocents."

"Nathan, I can't do this with your otters, no offence. Half look scared to death, and the rest don't have the stealth and skill to do the tracking. If you insist on the warrior's capture, I'll have to go it alone."

"Fine, fine, there's too much to risk."

"Don't worry, sir. Didn't really want` to go back to the Holt anyways."

"I know Swill, This way you can get a bit more adventure in."

"Thankee, sir, I'll try and get back to you soon."

"Try not to blow anything up. At least, not this big."

"No promises…"

After all, if an adventure didn't have explosions, then Swill would just go home. Adventures had to have explosions…

Swill moved on at an easy lope, along the creek bed, trailing the culprit/s.

He'd catch up.

_*Same time, Gericault and Co.*_

Gericault had slept well. The waking up, however, wasn't going well. Cramps were making his stretching excruciating, and sore from walking all of yesterday, Gericault was just mad, wanting to move on. Good for him, Bane, Rince and Thomas looked happier than a vulture after a battle.

Gericault massaged the back of his neck, brushed some grubs and dirt from his tail. Wasn't going to sleep in a hole again…

"Jerry, you ready?"

"As ever."

"Let's roll."

Gericault was caught off guard by a question posed by Bane.

"You squirrels got last names? Rince and I, since were part of a clan, we don't have last names. Were all family. You and Thomas have the same last names, I suppose?"

"Our family didn't have last names until our grandpa was born on Summer's day. His parent's didn't know what everyone else was celebrating, so they made his last name Holiday. If they had, I'd be Gericault Summerday."

"Dodged an arrow there, Jerry. If your last name was Summerday, I'd leave you behind."

Thomas joined in.

"That's nothing, dad almost named me George. I doubt you'd travel with a George."

"Tom, I'd kill a George."

We all shared a laugh. We moved on, eyes narrowed forward. We were going to get this mission done, come hellgates and high water.

_*Evening, Gericault and Co. setting up camp*_

Gericault and Bane were going to sleep in hammocks, though Bane was still adamant about seeing the sky, clearing the branches above him so he could see the stars. The campfire was surrounded by trees, and even with four used for sleeping, nothing appeared out of place except the campfire. An enemy would go straight to the campfire. The one on watch could alert the others and they could surround the foe. In theory.

_*Swill, coming upon the camp in the middle of the night.*_

Swill had found the camp, after a time of running. Otters sucked at running, short legs, heavy rudders, they were built for swimming. Swill would make it though. He wondered if he could capture and interrogate the culprit. He may find out how to blow things up like a master. That'd be cool…

Swill snapped out of it, moving closer to the campfire, towards a hunched figure, ready for anything…except a decoy.

_*Gericault*_

Rince had left the packs near the fire to keep the insects out of them and keep the rations from getting damp. Gericault thought they looked almost like another creature, hunched over as they were.

It was Gericault's turn to take watch, Thomas, before him, dozed off quickly. Gericault, still new to adventuring, was having a hard time staying awake, a really, really hard time. Heck, the pack near the fire looked like two creatures now… with the swaying of the hammock it looked like one creature tackled the one near the fire. When to attacker was heard to utter a soft "Dangit!" Gericault knew it was real.

Gericault leaned over to Bane's hammock, a skeleton of an idea forming from the calcium of a quick mind. Bane came awake quietly, paw straying to his bow. Bane knew it wasn't his shift now. Thomas pointed at the figure near the campfire, still searching the pack, hoping to find a clue to their whereabouts. Bane raised an eyebrow, and then raised his bow. Gericault pointed towards the figures leg, and then pantomimed firing the bow. Bane nodded, an alive captive was much more useful. Fitting an arrow slathered with the paralytic to his bow, he took aim and fired. Bane liked to make his shots at least a little creative. An arrow traveled towards the figure with a *_shhhhhh*_ sound, then hit the ground, bounced back up and struck the figure in its rather thick tail. A fine trick shot.

"YEEEEEOOOW!"

Rince came awake, a throwing dagger procured from darkness ready to throw as he came awake. Thomas, the epitome of finesse, fell out of his hammock, gashing his head on a rock. He dazedly fumbled for the dagger, then giving up, took the blood stained rock from the ground, held it ready use as a weapon. Bane had knocked another arrow, and Thomas hefted his javelin, ready to fight the figure.

A figure, that now, was as still as the bloody rock Thomas had fell on. The paralytic had done its job well. The figure was instantly distinguishable as an adult otter with an eye patch and an arrow in the rudder. Bane removed the arrow, and then wiped the blood off.

"Is the stuff reusable?"

"Yeah, but don't rely on it as much as a fresher arrow."

"Understood. Bandage up your brother, looks like an idiot, holding that bloody rock, blood running down his chin."

It was an easy matter to wrap up Thomas's head and give him something to ease the pain and throbbing. Thomas finally regained his senses to find Rince and Bane laughing at him. Thomas turned a bit red and shamefaced put the bloody rock into his pack. Nobody knew why.

Nobody was really interested, as the otter, after a canteen of water and some light slapping, came to.

The first thing Swill saw was a young squirrel, backed by three other shadowy figures of varying heights. Swill didn't suspect them of the explosion, especially with the young squirrel.

"Hey, what's going on there kiddo?" Swill ventured first.

"An otter with an eye patch raided our camp."

"Who could that be?" Swill feigned innocence. Never hurt to be careful. The shadowy figure in the middle looked pretty big.

"You. Who else would have Bane shot in the rear?" Gericault poked a large hole into Swill's masquerade.

"Ah, I was just looking around. A dangerous criminal is wandering around and I thought this camp was where he was at."

"A dangerous criminal?"

"Yeah, you didn't see the explosion? I was told to stop him before he could harm any innocents."

Rince stepped forwards. Swill looked openmouthed at him, Rince gazed back. Both evaluated each other.

"I made the explosion, otter. Those within the hideout meant us harm, and would harm more innocents then I ever would."

"You have a point, stoat. May I ask your name?"

"It's Rince."

"Rince, could you and your friends follow me back to my friends, they need to know your intentions before they can move on."

"Yeah, sure, as long as its close enough for me to get some sleep before dawn."

"Follow me, I'll lead you there…"

*A few hours after midnight.*

Nathan was surprised at the warrior, and the company he traveled with. Swill whispered in his ear all he could find out and that they meant good. Nathan, against his instincts against vermin, believed him. Besides, if they were on a mission, it was of great importance if it could bond vermin with woodlander.

Nathan spoke his verdict.

"I believe what Swill has told me that you are up to no evil. Swill's judgment has never proved wrong, even about vermin. You have my blessing, and I will aid you to the best of my abilities, however limited I am."

Bane spoke, having the finesse perfect for these situations.

"Sir, we thank you for your blessings and your concern for the greater good. We are on a mission of some importance, and we will need all the help we can get."

Nathan rubbed his chin, thinking, coming to conclusions and weighing his options. He spoke.

"I will not ask you about your mission, but I will help if I can. But it's up to you if we travel with you or back to our Holt. We can help you a little if we go with you now, or we can go to our Holt and get much more help if you need. What do you think?"

Thomas, with his big, bandaged head, voiced our verdict.

"We would not come between you otters and your families. We will only call on you if we are in serious need. Travel to your Holt, be merry, but be ready in case we need you."

Nathan smiled.

"Thank you for your consideration. We will be ready when you need us."

Swill coughed a bit and stood before Nathan, the torches of Nathan's camp giving a serious, but primitive air.

"Nathan, I ask permission to travel with them, if you would let me and they would permit me."

"Swill, go on ahead, I won't stop you. You can help them, and if you stuck with us, you'd just be bored."

Gericault, Thomas, Bane and Rince all agreed to let Swill join, the general logic being: "If he can hold his own and help, he can join."

Swill said farewell to Nathan and all of the other otters, all of whom regarded Swill as a close friend. They were sad to see him leave, but knew he'd be back with stories and scars. That was Swill for you…

A/N: Drop a review, give me a suggestion or three, constructive criticism, whatever. I'd like to know how this story is going and how I can improve.

Next Chapter coming soon (hopefully).


	6. Nothing is Simple

**Chapter 6**

Swill found out quickly that traveling with other creatures wasn't the same as traveling with other otters. Swill was often at the rear with his short legs not as nimble as a squirrel's or stoat's. He was having a harder time than he should be. Oh well, grin and bear it, Swill thought.

"Keep up, Otter, it's always the straggler that get killed first." Rince said without looking behind him. He said it too casually, Swill thought.

"… Thanks." Swill replied.

Much of the group's progress was made in the evening, when it got cooler. It's also when they got talkative.

"So Swill…" Bane ventured.

"Yes?"

"What do Otters do in their free time?"

"Swim."

"Just swim?" Bane said, brow raised.

"Pretty much. When I got tired of that I'd usually sing."

"You can sing?" Bane questioned.

"A little."

"Can you sing for us?" Jerry asked.

"Ye-"

"No. Not while we're moving." Rince interrupted.

"Why, are you thinking it will give us away?"

"No, we can handle whatever attacks. I don't want him to sing while walking because when that happens, his footsteps mess with the projection of his voice, and it don't sound as good."

"Okay…"

*_Later_*

Gericault and Thomas were massaging their foot paws while Bane and Rince were talking quietly together. They concluded their conversation and walked up to Swill, who was still breathing heavily.

"Will you feel up to singing later?"

"Um… Sure. Why not now?"

"Be patient. You'll find out soon."

"Okay…" Swill said, confused. He'd just have to wait.

*_Soon, after waiting._*

Bane, who had been acting oddly subdued and clumsy recently, making odd little mistakes. He had left camp and come back with odd green stains on his hands after "looking for water" which they had plenty of. Swill dismissed these thoughts and prepared to sing in front of Gericault and Thomas, who, for their part, looked eager. Bane and Rince would be joining in. Bane would play on his bow, and Rince was carving a wood flute with a thin tool he kept with his daggers.

"DAMNIT!" Rince roared.

"What?" Everyone else started.

He didn't reply, but held his hand up. Winces all around.

The slim tool he had been using had slipped on the wood and went deep into Rince's paw, scraping bone. Gericault rushed to assemble the correct poultice. He had to stop the bleeding, prevent infection, speed the healing, and relieve pain. He added more of the pain reliever than he would have normally. A pained Rince is a mad Rince. Yeah, more pain reliever was necessary…

Gericault had taken all these herbs, put them in his mouth, chewed them, and, without warning, pounced on Rince, who was still gesturing wildly in pain. Gericault pinned Rince's injured paw down and spat the herbs into and around the site of the injury. Rince was about to tear Gericault's jaw off when the painkiller kicked in. All was forgiven.

As it turned out, Rince still played flute, with the only lasting distress on Bane's face. Swill and Thomas had gone about their business. It was time to sing, with the campfire crackling merrily and darkness settling.

Swill started in a low cadence, his voice gradually becoming bolder.

_I was young and bold, long ago_

_I was strong, you know_

_I never shrank from the snow_

_It took effort, you know_

_To leeeeaaaave…_

_My body, my shackles, my mind_

_My paws, my feet, my chest_

_Anchored me, pulled me down_

_I felt as if I was to drown_

_I had to get out, to flee_

_To leeeeaaaave…_

_I left my body below me_

_Looking away, across the sea_

_Never have felt more alive_

_Departed from my body_

_I had ditched myself_

_To leeeeaaaave…_

_Never had I felt better_

_More in ecstasy._

Bane nodded to Rince before Swill could start the next verse. Bane nodded.

"DEATH COMES QUICKLY NOW!"Rince yelled in a bloodcurdling scream. Needless to say, the greatest of trees shook.

The ominous presence, which had crept towards them during the song, drawn to the scent of Rince's blood, bolted. There was a scream. Rince and Bane leapt up and ran towards the noise. The others followed cautiously.

A small creature, who had the look of a very dark ferret, was suspended upside down from a tree. The small dagger in its hand was scraping back and forth against the vine that held it. Bane knocked the dagger away. Rince ripped the creature from the vine, savagely twisting it's caught foot. Rince took the creature, who was struggling fiercely, threw it to the ground, and savagely punched it in the face until it stilled.

Rince screamed in it's face until all thoughts of retaliation or struggle escaped it's mind. It knew all it's efforts would be futile.

"Now who could you be?" Bane questioned.

It didn't speak.

"What is your name?"

Silence.

"Are we going to have to hurt you?'

Silence.

"That is a yes. Rince, you take it from here."

Take it Rince did. A crushing punch was delivered from Rince's injured paw to the creature's injured foot. Still no answer was given. Rince turned to Thomas and Gericault.

"You two might want to leave."

Bane added an idea: "Gericault, could you get some of that stuff you used on me, gave me nightmares?"

"What do you plan to do to him?" Gericault asked back.

"It might be a her, and I'm thinking that stuff may help to loosen it's tongue." Bane answered.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. It's just wrong." Gericault refused.

"Well, show me where it is, and i'll do it myself. If you don't, we'll have to hurt it even more."

"Fine, but take it easy. That stuff can be lethal if he inhales too much."

"You got it." Bane agreed. Bane knew that the only reason _he_ was cooperative was he was too scared to think straight. That's what they needed now.

"I'm going to sleep, so keep him from screaming too loud." Gericault walked back to his sleeping spot, a small hollow in the roots of a tree. Gericault was curious about the creature, but his answers would have to wait until morning, whenever that came.

*I'm sorry for this chapter, it's terrible, I know. I'm a bit out of practice. Also sorry for the HUGE delay. School, you know...*


	7. Art Appreciation

Chapter 7: Art Appreciation

Gericault slept fitfully, his rest interrupted not by screams, but by the terrified gasps and low wails. Tossing and turning, Gericault looked up at the sky and decided that he wasn't going to get any more sleep. Bane and Rince had left the dark ferret tied where he/she could be watched. Bane and Rince were sleeping nearby, apparently content to leave the ferret to nightmares while they slept. Gericault made himself known to the hallucinating creature, because he'd rather face whatever demons and apparitions with another creature, even if the other creature were hostile. At least it would give him someone to work against.

"Hey, you."

All Gericault got in response was a low moan.

Gericault knew that by now, unless Bane or Rince had given too large a dose, the ferret should have been coherent by now. Gericault got on his knees and examined the ferret's eyes closely. They weren't dilated or out of focus.

"Well that's inter-"

*Crunch*

"Yahhhhhgg!"

Gericault's snout had been broken by the ferret, he realized through a white, electric flash of pain. He'd been overconfident, getting close, like a fool...

Gericault's yell woke up his friends. Bane, seeing him bleeding next to the captive ferret, thought the worst.

"I'll skin you alive!"

"Bane! It's all right! I've got this handled." Gericault reassured

"Yeah? Doesn't look like it."

"Things rarely are what they seem to be."

The ferret had finally spoken.

Swill grimaced for some reason. Thomas, Rince, and Bane were now watching the ferret intently. Gericault was patching up his broken nose. When he was done, he looked at the silent gathering around him. Gericault looked the ferret in the eye.

"I've got some questions."

"I might have answers."

"I'm willing to trade." posed Gericault. He'd play the game for now.

"I'd prefer to barter though. I'd like some of my own questions answered."

"I won't disagree to that."

"Me first?"

"Go right ahead."

"If you insist…"

"I do."

"COME ON ALREADY!" Rince interrupted.

The ferret sniffed disdainfully at Rince, which was a feat, considering that he/she was captive, and Rince was towering over him/her.

"Alright. Firstly, why are vermin and woodlanders travelling together?"

Gericault didn't want to give too much away, but he had to if he were to get answers.

"We're on a mission."

"Really?"

"Yeah, my turn. Why are you interested?"

"It's my business to know things. I'm a messenger. My turn now. How did you catch me?"

Bane answered.

"I smelled you when the wind shifted. Then I feigned like I was gathering water while you were spying on the camp. That's when I set the trap with the vine."

"Crafty."

"I try."

Gericault asked his second question:

"Are you male or female? None of us can tell, with that odd garb you're wearing."

Odd garb it was. It looked like a tattered, hooded tunic, with baggy pants, and a balaclava hiding what the hood couldn't and muffling the voice enough to make it unspecific.

The ferret laughed.

"I'm female. Not that it really matters."

"It does when you're trying to figure things out about another creature."

"True. Were you involved with that explosion a while ago?"

"Yeah. Rince's fault."

"Fault?" Rince asked quizzically.

"Yes." Thomas answered. "Everyone everywhere has seen it. First Swill's holt, now her."

"Didn't hear you complain when you didn't have to drag the bodies away."

"Whatever." Gericault interuppted."Who sent you to investigate?"

"My boss, Ori. He likes to keep an eye on things, makes sure everything is stable. An explosion isn't his idea of stable, so he sent me."

"Hold it." Bane cut in. "Do you mean Captain Ori? Thought he died a while ago."

"Yeah, he's been called Captain. Here's my last question. Will you let me go?"

Gericault took the initiative. "Sure, as long as Ori doesn't bother us."

"As long as your friend doesn't blow us up, we'll leave you alone."

Rince stepped forward. "Yeah, I'll keep myself reigned in until I'm out of this area."

Rince bent down and severed her bonds, then pointed to where her confiscated things were.

"Thanks. I-OW!"

Gericault had forgotten about her foot, still sprained, bruised, and swollen from the beating it had taken from last night.

"I'll take care of it. Sit back down, please."

Gericault got his pack and laid everything he would need down. Splints, bandages, painkiller, something to keep the swelling down...

"All right, I'm going to have to reset your foot. It's going to hurt like hellgates, but it's got to be done."

"Do it."

Gericault did it. With a sharp tug, and a snap that made everyone wince, and the ferret's face pale in pain, her injured foot was reset.

"Hard part is over. What's your name, anyways?"

"Feri."

"Sounds... good. Didn't expect it to be that feminine, though."

"You thought it's be something barbaric didn't you?"

"Yeah."

Feri laughed, Rince and Bane smiled a bit.

Gericault quickly finished fixing Feri's leg.

"You're good to go now, just take it easy."

Feri got to her feet hesitantly, testing her bad foot. She seemed surprised it held. She hopped on one foot to her things and gathere them up. She attempted to hobble out of camp on her one one good leg.

Gericault walked up to her, holding out his javelin.

"Use this as a crutch."

"Isn't this yours?"

"It's a sharpened stick. If I need another one, I'll make one. Don't stab anything that you don't want to. It'll paralyze anything that's alive."

"...Thanks." Their eyes met for a moment.

"Sure."

Feri walked away, her progress faster. Soon she was out of sight.

Bane, Rince, and Thomas were giving him slightly mocking smiles.

"What?"

"Nothing. I thought you liked that sharp stick of yours?" Bane said, his grin seeming to widen.

"She needed it more than I did." Gericault answered.

Bane grinned wider.

"You looking to get yourself a lady friend?"

"WHAT? No!"

"I wouldn't blame you. She's quite a looker." Bane gently prodded.

"How could you tell?"

"I can tell if I know what to look for. I'm quite the appraiser."

"..."

"You should have seen your face when you were bandaging her up, brother, it was priceless." Great, now Thomas was laughing.

"I was focused on patching her up."

"I could tell." Rince cut in, barely suppressed laughter obvious in his voice.

"Oh, be quiet." Gericault was starting to get annoyed.

"You should take that chance, Jerry. I'm not always going to be here to snare the ladies for you." Bane said, causing everyone but Gericault to start laughing.

"Oh shut up. We've got ground to cover."

Thomas, Rince, and Bane couldn't stop laughing.


End file.
